Pimmie’s dilemma—
neon midnight, heart on redline,
too fast to feel, too loud to lie.
She loops the future in a 4/4 cry,
beats bruise the sky, tears vaporize.
Love’s a glitch she can’t rewrite,
so she spins the pain, double-time,
lets the bass eat the night.
If joy’s a drug, let her OD tonight—
speed it up, blur the lines,
make the sorrow sound alright.